


New beginnings

by madswritings



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mild Fluff, Smut, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madswritings/pseuds/madswritings
Summary: Marcus comes to you with news that he got excommunicated.





	New beginnings

Marcus is standing by the front gate, looking at the house. He doesn’t exactly know why he came here but he knows for sure that he needs to be here. Something inside of him is pulling him here and is still pushing him forward, to walk into the yard and knock on the door. Yet he lingers. What if no one answers his knock? And what if it is answered? What he should say? What he should keep secret? His eyes dart to the window when he notices a shadow pass behind it. He knows he can’t really stall it for any longer.  
With a heavy sigh Marcus enters the front yard, doesn’t forget to close the gate behind him, then walks to the front door. His boots sound heavy against the stones of the pathway, similar to his heart beating in his chest. He’s getting nervous but he doesn’t understand why.  
Once he stops by the front door Marcus exhales; he didn’t notice he was holding his breath all the way from gate to here. He raises his hand, his fingers balling into a fist, but then he notices it, unclenches his fingers, and raps his knuckles against the painted dark brown wood. Marcus stands there, waiting, now wondering if his knock was too silent, but when he’s about to do it again, the door opens.  
“Marcus Keane?” You ask partially confused and happy. “A million years no less.” You smile and Marcus responds with a small smile of his own which quickly vanishes once your eyes move to study his appearance. “Looking well.” You admit and when you raise your eyes you finally notice that something’s wrong. “Marcus?”  
“Can I come in?” He asks obviously uncomfortable by being outside and you nod, stepping aside to let him in.  
Marcus quickly steps over the threshold and turns to you, urging you to close the door wordlessly. You take a hint and do as he wants, then turn to him.  
“What’s the matter, Marcus?” You ask feeling seriousness of the situation and Marcus sighs, he turns to the wall, examining photos hanging there, like he’s stalling. You wait patiently as you watch Marcus give a smile or two over your childhood photos but finally he seems to remember why he actually came here.  
“I was um…” He clears his throat not looking at you. “I was excommunicated, Y/N.” He finally finishes and you freeze.  
You don’t know what to say or what to do, so you just stand and stare at him, waiting for that brilliant thought that would make everything better for Marcus. But the thought doesn’t come so you heavily swallow and nod, acknowledging his confession.  
“I see.” You mutter then walk past him to the living room. “Why?” You ask as you reach the liquor cabinet and open it, now getting two glasses and picking the drink.  
Marcus follows you into the living room and sits on the couch. When you turn you don’t see confidence in him that usually follows him everywhere. He looks broken, disappointed, banished from the only place he could call home.  
“I made some mistakes.” He admits as you move around the armchair, reach Marcus and put two glasses on the coffee table.  
“I know you’re a beer man, but somehow I feel you need something stronger right now.” You explain as you unscrew the bottle of whisky. “Or would you prefer vodka?” You look at him and Marcus shakes his head tiredly.  
“Whisky is just fine.”  
You pour brown liquid to the glasses almost to the brim, then settle the bottle not too far away. You have a feeling you will need it again. You pick both glasses and hand one to Marcus.  
“Here.” You say softly and Marcus raises his eyes from the floor to the glass, then takes it.  
You sit beside him and take your first sip of whisky. It burns your mouth and throat and you hiss once it slides down to your stomach, igniting fire there too. You, just like Marcus, more often than not choose beer too, but as you said to Marcus – this occasion calls for something way stronger.  
“I don’t know what to do Y/N.” Marcus says and you look at him, feeling sorry that he has to be in a situation like this. You both tackled some issues in the past, both on his and your end, but this is something you never thought is possible.  
“Can’t you do anything about? Reapply or something?” You ask and Marcus shakes his head.  
“It’s not that simple. I can’t just stroll into a seminary, take some classes and be a priest again. It doesn’t work that way. I was kicked out, I didn’t choose to do this myself.” Marcus explains as he keeps his eyes on the glass now clutched between his palms.  
You both fall silent for a moment. During it Marcus takes two sips from his glass but doesn’t even flinch. You watch him and feel sorry for him. You are sorry he got excommunicated, you are sorry that you can’t give what he needs, you are sorry that you don’t know any words that would make him feel any better. And above all, you feel sorry because you sit here, silently, unable to understand what Marcus is going through at the moment.  
“It will be okay.” He says like he’s trying to console you. Marcus almost regrets coming here, putting his worries on your shoulders, making you feel bad.  
“Will it?” You ask but don’t wait for Marcus to answer. “What will you do now?”  
“Well, I’m a free man now, aren’t I.” He finally turns to you and gives you a somewhat sad smile. You see that he tries to find positive things in this situation despite it being devastating to him.  
“True, but I didn’t ask you if you’re going to start dating. I mean your work, your passion.” You offer him a more cheerful smile in return and Marcus takes another sip.  
“Well, I figured I can’t stop doing it just because I don’t belong to Church anymore.” Marcus shrugs and puts his glass on the coffee table. He starts taking off his leather jacket as he continues explaining. “There is this man. His name is Tomas. He’s a good man, but inexperienced. He rushes into things he shouldn’t be rushing into. I wonder if I should agree to what he wants.” Marcus casually drops his jacket on the couch’s backrest and you raise an eyebrow.  
“What does he want?” You ask taking a sip yourself, feeling how you start getting warm, maybe that’s why Marcus took off his jacket. He’s feeling the buzz already too.  
“To be an exorcist like me.” Marcus rolls up his sweater’s sleeves and you nod.  
“I guess your work is impressive.” You smile and Marcus silently laughs.  
“That’s one word to describe it.” He takes his glass and drinks leaving it half empty. “But he wants to help so badly. He has passion, I won’t deny it. But I worked alone for so long. I don’t know if I can be a good teacher.” Marcus looks down at his whisky and sighs. “What if I can’t give him what he wants.”  
You slide closer to Marcus and put your hand over his. Once he turns his eyes to you, you gently smile to him.  
“You are wonderful, dedicated man, Marcus. You saved so many souls I lost count. And if Tomas is asking you to guide him then he knows that you can give him what he needs.” You say and Marcus remains silent, looking you in the eyes.  
“You always find the right words, Y/N.” He thanks with a smile and you smile back to him. Then suddenly you notice tears in his eyes.  
“I’m sorry, I-“  
Marcus kisses you so quickly and suddenly you freeze. You almost drop your glass and when Marcus leans back from you, you still can’t believe what just happened.  
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Marcus rushes to apologize as he puts his glass on the table and stands up. “It’s just… I’m sorry.” He turns to grab his jacket with intentions to flee, but you put your glass next to his and stand up.  
“Marcus.” You try to stop him, but he takes his jacket without looking at you and you know that simple words won’t do the trick.  
You step to him, make him turn to you by grabbing his sweater lying flat against his chest.  
“I’m sorry too.” You say when he finally looks at you and then you kiss him yourself.  
Marcus feels shocked only for a second. He drops his jacket on the floor and wraps his arms around your waist. He kisses you back desperately, like this is the only thing that can make him feel better right now and you won’t be the one to stop this. You wanted this for a long time, but Marcus being faithful to his vows always stopped you. Not anymore.  
You feel Marcus’ tip of the tongue brush against your lips and you part them, letting him in. The kiss deepens, becomes more heated and you think that he’s way too experienced for a man who’s been a priest all these years. Yet you are quick to lose your train of thought when Marcus’ palms slide up your back pushing you even closer against him, your breasts squeezed hard against his chest. Suddenly he breaks the kiss to look at you.  
“Are you sure?” He asks, obviously only now considering that you might not be in the same mood as he is, but you smile to him.  
“Shut up.” You respond out of breath and pull him back into a kiss because you’re still holding his sweater.  
You feel Marcus faintly smile against your lips, but it quickly vanishes when you rub your thigh against his crotch. He’s already hard and you almost moan from anticipation.  
Marcus’ hands leave your back and push you back just enough for him to get access to buttons of your blouse. He quickly starts undoing them, one after another. He feels that if he stops even for a second again – all of his pain will return. This moment with you, right now, right here, is everything he needs and he’s not walking away this time.  
You break the kiss not only to catch your breath but also get rid of Marcus’ sweater. You grab the bottom of it and start pulling it up. Marcus abandons your blouse for a moment and raises his hands to help you out. Once the sweater is off you toss it behind him on the floor ready to kiss him again, but then stop. There are scars on his body, many of them, so many.  
You open your mouth to say something but don’t get to utter even a single letter once Marcus pulls you close to his naked chest. His palms on your lower back makes you lean back a bit but that’s what he wants as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing passionately. You wrap your hands around him, resisting to trace your fingertips against his scars. You breathe out and then moan, forgetting his scares once Marcus sinks his teeth into your skin. He lowers his head, peppering kisses on your chest, then lower, on the mounds of your breasts that are not covered with your bra. You didn’t even notice when he finished unbuttoning your blouse.  
With a passionate sigh you slide your fingers into his hair and close your eyes, letting Marcus taste you over and over again. Thought of bedroom crosses your mind but you shoo it away not wanting to concentrate on useless walking when there is a couch right here.  
Marcus raises his head and with you still in his arms turns, lying you carefully on the couch. You let go of his neck when he straightens his back but remains kneeling with one knee between your legs.  
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers looking at you, your body and you smile.  
“Stop talking.”  
“Sorry.” He smiles too and hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants and panties together.  
Marcus leans in kissing your stomach before he starts pealing layers of off you. You help him by raising your hips. With a bit of struggle you are left only in your bra and your blouse. Marcus tosses your clothes away and leans in, kissing you once more. Your fingers are quick to find his belt and undo it. You don’t want to wait any longer. You both need this and need this now. Once you undo his pants button and a zipper you reach in and pull out his hard erection. You give it a few strokes and feel Marcus moan against your lips.  
You slide his pants and underwear as low as you can, then toss your arms over your head as you bend your knees, waiting for him. Marcus reaches out and intervenes his fingers with all of yours as his lips travel on your neck once more. You feel his muscles move smoothly just before he thrusts into you, squeezing out a moan right away.  
He starts to move, slow at first, letting you to get used to the feeling, then his fingers squeeze yours as he starts picking up the pace, quicker and quicker, desperate to sink in this pleasure he’s feeling. Your moans mix with his, filling the room while Marcus is still kissing your neck, your jawline and finally returns to your lips. The kiss doesn’t last long as you both feel the desire to breath and he looks at you, for the first time understanding just how much you mean for him.  
“Stop.” You whisper and Marcus does as you want.  
You pull your hand from under his and guide him to a sitting position. He watches you as you straddle him, with one hand holding onto his shoulder for support. You look at him, then sink lower letting him enter you once more. Marcus lets out a groan and his palms find your hips. You start moving and he helps you. He tries to kiss you but you push him back, making him lean against the backrest and then lower your head kissing his chest as you don’t stop moving. Marcus’ fingers dig deeper into your skin as you start moving faster and faster, now aiming for your release. You hear Marcus moaning and you raise your head, then kiss him.  
Marcus flinches as his orgasm hits him and it pushes you over your edge too. You shiver in his arms and Marcus pulls you close until you both ride out your pleasure. Once you stop, you remain in each other’s hands, panting with your eyes closed.  
Minutes pass before you both feel somewhat rested. You raise your head from Marcus’ shoulder and look at him.  
“Thank you.” He says as he gently brushes hair from your forehead and you smile.  
“I needed this as much as you did.”  
“Maybe.” He smiles. “I could use a drink I think.” Marcus adds and you have to admit you could too.  
You slide from his lap on the couch and take both glasses giving Marcus’ the one he was having.  
“Stay here. For tonight.” You look at him and Marcus turns his eyes to you from the glass. There are questions in his expression but he quickly finds answers too. He nods.  
“I will.”  
“Then let’s have a toast. For this miserable miserable life.” You smile and Marcus chuckles then gently taps his glass against yours.  
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He glances at you and you nod then you both drink.  
Even if the life is miserable, at least this evening isn’t. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my fic! Comments and kudos are very very welcome!


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